


two thousand light years from home

by TameTheBeastZayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ... if thats a tag even, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Does that count as crossdressing?, Future Fic, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thigh Slapping, a lil bit of Spanking, ill tag it anyway, like Louis is 30, like very light, thigh fucking, top!Louis, you gotta squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TameTheBeastZayn/pseuds/TameTheBeastZayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He hears the rustling of paper from inside the bathroom and leans back, watching the door with a thrumming in his heart. When Harry finally emerges a few torturous minutes later, Louis’ throat drops to his stomach, and he can't breathe.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Harry stands in the doorway of the darkened room with his hands to his sides, present on, hair falling into his eyes. Louis gulps, takes in the younger boy, every inch of him, and can't do anything but admire. Harry’s wearing a thin black garter belt with a little red bow in the middle, sheer black thigh high stockings, and black lace panties, cock poking out obscenely at the waistband. He looks up to Louis and smiles, small, clasping his hands behind his back in obvious obedience.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>x</p><p>It's Louis' birthday. He gets Harry a present. </p><p>(A bit unconventional, but they both benefit from it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	two thousand light years from home

**Author's Note:**

> to all my lovelies out there; thanks for always talking about the wonders that are Harry's legs with me, and basically for inspiring this fic (even though you dont read fic)(whatever)
> 
> also, here's a little video that also inspired me [its porn so beware] [(xxx)](http://bottomharrylibrary.tumblr.com/post/84985072856)
> 
> title from "I Want It All" by Arctic Monkeys.

Harry scrolls through his twitter aimlessly, waiting patiently for Louis to get back from a Rovers meeting. _He’s running a little late_ , Harry notices, _maybe he picked up dinner_. He exits out of twitter and brings up his contacts, pressing call on Louis’. He picks up on the third ring.

“‘Ello?”

“Hi,” Harry says, drawing out the word cheerfully. Louis laughs on the other end, and Harry grins stupidly. “Are you picking up something to eat?” he asks hopefully. Louis laughs again, and Harry can almost see it, his eyes crinkling at the corners, sharp teeth just barely biting into his bottom lip.

“Umm, I wasn't, but I could, if you wanted?” Louis’ voice goes up on octave at the end, and Harry’s still grinning.

“Could you? Maybe some tacos, yeah?” Louis hums in agreement, then goes silent. Harry gets up from the couch and goes into the kitchen, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he opens a cupboard for a wine glass. “Lou?” He hears a small laugh.

“Got you a present.” Louis’ voice is low, so low Harry strains to hear him, but then his smile gets bigger.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry laughs at his lack of words.

“Is it something dirty?” he whispers, as if people could actually hear him. “Is it those candy heart butt plugs I wanted?” Louis laughs then, loud and bright.

“That’s for _your_ birthday, remember?” Harry uncorks a bottle of wine, then pours it into his glass, swirling it around a few times like a proper connoisseur.

“Why’d you get me a present? I’m not the one turning thirty, Lou.”

“Shut up! We don't say that word, its not an actual number.” Harry takes a sip of the wine, savoring the burn of it.

“It _is_ a number. And it _is_ your birthday.” Louis sighs, and then Harry can hear him speaking into the drive thru speaker, say a quick thank you. He’s back with another sigh.

“The present - _and this is the only hint you’re getting Harold_ \- is for you, but for me too.” Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“That makes no sense.”

“It will when you see it.” Harry huffs, takes another gulp of wine.

“Which will be when, exactly?” he asks impatiently. Louis laughs, the sound like wind chimes.

“In a few minutes. Jesus, what’s crawled up your ass?”  Harry empties his glass, then sandwiches his phone between his shoulder and ear again to pour himself another.

“Not you, unfortunately. So hurry, I will be waiting, and yes, extra sauce. Love you sweetums.” Louis laughs, irritation itching at Harry’s skin.

“Back ‘acha, babycakes.” And then the line is dead, and Harry is left to his own devices. Maybe it was a new headscarf - Louis loved them on him as much as Harry did - or maybe it was a new hat (Harry never understood Louis’ fascination with him and headwear). Harry sits down at the table and brings his leg up, resting his chin on his knee. He stays like that for some while, interrupting his wondrous thinking with a sip of wine, that’s getting him pleasantly buzzed each time it passes his lips. Harry’s mind goes blissfully blank, until he hears the jiggling of a key in a lock. He looks up, and the door opens, then closes softly. It takes all of Harry’s restraint to keep from jumping up, running to Louis and requesting the ‘present’ right here, right now. Louis still isn’t seen, but Harry can hear him drop the keys onto their coffee table, and then the echo of footsteps on the hardwood floors. Louis walks through the archway of the kitchen and smiles at Harry.

“Hey,” he says, setting a brown paper bag on the table. Harry catches the scent of food, more specifically, tacos. Louis leans over to him, for a kiss, but instead of kissing him on the lips, Harry moves at the last second, pecking Louis on the cheek. Louis pulls away, narrowing his eyes, but doesn’t comment, just places a non-descript blood red bag next to the food. Harry flicks his eyes to it, and reaches out, but Louis smacks his hands away playfully.

“After we eat, Mr. Impatient.” Harry rolls his eyes, sinking back into his chair, watching as Louis goes to the cupboard, reaches up on his tiptoes to get himself a wine glass.

“That’s Mr. Tomlinson to you,” Harry says, licking  his lips when the older boy’s shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of tan skin, and Harry smiles, mentally praises himself for getting a house in L.A., where Louis could almost always go and sunbathe. Louis laughs as if he can read Harry’s mind and settles back on his feet, turning to Harry empty handed.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Harry’s smug grin gives Louis the answer. “Well, I’m not climbing on the counter, get me a cup, you savage.” Harry stands up with a heavy sigh, trying to come across as annoyed.

“I always knew Zayn could’ve been a better boyfriend.” Louis turns around, back to Harry, and crosses his arms. The younger boy crowds up against him, but only because Louis was in front of where Harry needed to be, and wouldn’t move. (It was completely necessary.) He reaches to get the wine glass, elbow resting on the top of Louis’ head. “Killer cheekbones, able to reach the back of the cupboard.” Louis turns around, arms still crossed.

“I have killer cheekbones, and I can too reach the back of the cupboard. Just not the top ones.” Harry laughs, watches as Louis uncrosses his arms, instead wraps them around Harry’s waist. “And my ass knocks Zayn’s out of the waters, any day.” Harry sets the glass on the counter and dips his head, watches Louis watch him, blue eyes burning with intensity.

“Don’t know what I’d be without your ass,” Harry says softly, and their faces are close, so close Harry can feel Louis’ breath against his lips, and Louis’ eyes flicker down, for a fraction of a second, then they’re back on Harry, an almost guilty glint to them.

“You bet, pal.” Harry watches him speak, watches the way his tongue peeks between his teeth on the end of ‘pal’. And, as if he cant help himself, he leans forward, kisses Louis soft, without intention. Louis responds eagerly, fingers dipping underneath Harry’s shirt to press into the curve of his spine, Harry whimpering at the gentle skin on skin contact. He moves a hand up to cup Louis’ scruffy jaw, then deepens the kiss, feels Louis sag against him, let out a hum. Louis’ thumbs press into Harry’s hips, and before it can get too heated, Louis pulls away, kissing Harry on the cheek.

“Food, babe.” Harry leans down, pecking the older boy’s lips once more. “No,” Louis giggles, pushing at Harry’s chest. He doesn’t budge though, and Louis just giggles again when Harry kisses him. “Get off, you insatiable bastard.” Harry finally relents, releasing Louis with a kiss on the nose. Louis pushes him, laughter bubbling up.

Harry sits down at the table, reaches for the food, and takes out the two styrofoam containers, placing one in front of Louis, who’s still grinning. Louis pours himself some wine and looks over the rim of his glass to Harry.  Harry just smiles and opens the container, grabbing a fork and digging in. Louis does the same, but catches the way Harry’s eyes keep flickering to the other bag on the table. Halfway through their meal, he pipes up.

“Can I have one more hint?” His voice has a slight whine to it, and maybe it would be annoying if his lips weren’t jutted out into a pout, if the way his eyebrows were furrowed wasn't so fucking _adorable_. Louis really needs to get rid of him. (When Harry rubs his fingers over the velvety bag and goosebumps line his arms, Louis decides he should keep him, forever, if possible.)

“No,” Louis says finally, knocking Harry’s fingers away. The younger boy looks to his half eaten taco for answers, and when its silent, Louis sighs impatiently. “Open it in the bathroom and I’ll be in the room.” Harry squeals with delight and claps his hands once before snatching the bag and nearly running to the bathroom.

Louis finishes his wine and waits a moment before cleaning up a bit (though not very well; Harry’s the housewife in this relationship), then goes to the bedroom, sits in the recliner Harry had insisted they put in here. He hears the rustling of paper from inside the bathroom and leans back, watching the door with a thrumming in his heart. When Harry finally emerges a few torturous minutes later, Louis’ throat drops to his stomach, and he can't breathe.

Harry stands in the doorway of the darkened room with his hands to his sides, present on, hair falling into his eyes. Louis gulps, takes in the younger boy, every inch of him, and can't do anything but _admire_. Harry’s wearing a thin black garter belt with a little red bow in the middle, sheer black thigh high stockings, and black lace panties, cock poking out obscenely at the waistband. He looks up to Louis and smiles, small, clasping his hands behind his back in obvious obedience.

Louis’ mouth runs dry and he finds himself silently staring, licking over his lips just for the distraction. He runs his hands down his thighs to try and calm down the leaping of his heart. He looks up at Harry and gruffly says, “Get on your knees.” Harry licks his lips slowly, pushes his hair out of his eyes, and gets to his knees, clasping his hands behind his back once more, and it all falls into place. While on the outside, they had equal pull on each other, pushing and tugging one other in only the most decent ways possible, their roles were clearly defined in the bedroom - Harry, the submissive one, always ready to please, and Louis, the dominant one, always ready to push Harry to his limit, to take him to the edge, only to pull him back at the last millisecond. Louis feels his stomach churn when Harry smiles, eyes glistening even from across the room, waiting patiently.

“Crawl to me.” Harry doesn't miss a beat, drops to his hands as soon as the words are out of Louis’ mouth, and starts walking, hands and knees, over to Louis, slowly, swinging his hips and jutting out his ass, lengthening his lean body, a dirty smile on his face. When he finally gets to Louis, he sits back on his calves, threads his fingers together in his lap, back straight. He glances at Louis once - a quick, heated gaze - before looking back at his hands, a light pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. “Stand up, princess.” It wasn't a word Louis often used, only when he wanted to assure Harry he was pretty, always beautiful, always perfect. Harry preens at it, like always, and gets to his feet, looks down at Louis with wide eyes. “Look so good.”

Harry lets out a ragged breath, smiles proudly. “Yeah?” Louis nods, takes his lip between his teeth, and leans forward.

“Come here.” Harry shuffles closer, slots his legs between Louis’ and watches as Louis looks up at him, slides his hands around his waist, the garter, then leads them down, down across the front of the panties, down the insides of Harry’s thighs, palms following the line of the garter. He fits his hands around Harry’s thighs where they’re covered in the lace of the stocking, and Harry shivers, feel his cock harden even more when Louis requests, “Turn around,” in a dark, lust laden voice. Harry obeys, shivers again when Louis repeats the same path; waist, panties, inner thighs, stockings. Harry lets out a surprised noise when Louis spanks him, sharp, fast, leaving a stinging in its wake that Harry can only describe as _fucking_ _incredible_.

“Your ass is ridiculous in these,” Louis comments, fitting a finger underneath the edge of the panties. The material clings back to Harry’s skin inaudibly, and Louis runs his hands up the backs of Harry’s thighs, starting at his knees. When he gets to the top,  the curve of Harry’s bum, he squeezes the flesh together, slaps the skin again, satisfied beyond compare when the milky skin turns  a light shade of pink. Harry tries to stay silent, but its hard, especially when Louis pulls the garter string away from his body, then lets it snap back, another pleasant sting, this time, in his thighs.

“Face me.” Harry turns slowly, relishes in the feel of Louis’ hands never leaving his legs. Louis coasts them down Harry’s calves, leaning forward to do so, and then comes back up, cupping his hands around the backs of Harry’s knees. He looks up at the younger boy, and finds Harry staring at him, mouth parted slightly, eyebrows pinched together softly. Louis huffs out a laugh, the air breathed out onto Harry’s lace covered cock, and Harry suppresses the shiver that comes with it as best as he can. Louis stays there a beat longer, then smiles, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

“Lay down on the bed.” Harry steps back, looks at Louis once more, and turns around, walking toward the bed with a filthy swing to his hips. Louis laughs but doesn't say anything. Instead, he gets up, going to the bed and reaching under it for the previously discarded bottle of lube. When Louis glances up, Harry’s laying on his back, hands running over his torso, starting right above his nipples and stopping at the garter. “Keep touching yourself,” Louis instructs, stripping down to his boxers. Harry gives one look of uncertainty before continuing his path, teasing himself. On one downstroke, he grazes his fingers past the garter, cups himself through the lace panties, and lets out a gasp of pleasure, bubble of precome staining the soft material. Louis gets onto the bed, positions himself between Harry’s legs, but doesn't touch him, just watches as he starts grinding his hips into the air, as if it was going to provide some sort of friction. Louis smiles, runs his hands up Harry’s thighs, mesmerized by how good the younger boy looks.

“How’s it feel?” Harry whines softly, lets out a deep breath. He takes the bud of his nipple between his fingers and pinches it softly before gasping out, “Incredible.”Harry clears his throat, “The lace feels incredible,” he clarifies. Louis hums, snaps the garter again.

“Look so pretty baby.” Harry shivers again, his skin ridden with goosebumps, and takes his bottom lip between his teeth. Louis reaches up to pull it out. “No biting.” Harry bucks his hips up, letting out a soft gasp.

“Louis,” he whispers roughly. Louis trails his eyes over Harry’s body, taking everything in - dark hair fanned out on the white pillow case, wide eyes, green irises nearly eliminated by lust blown pupil, slick, plump lips, red, puffy nipples, hard cock pressed against confining lace, spread thighs, milky skin interrupted by black lace, then the sheer black material of the stockings, never ending legs covered in it. Louis tugs at the tops of the stockings, and when Harry shifts his hips restlessly again, Louis draws back his hands, slaps his fingertips against the insides of Harry’s thighs. He  smiles when the younger boy moans, startled, squeezes his thighs together.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes out, letting Louis pry them back open without much protest. His breathing goes ragged again when Louis repeats his actions, slapping just his fingertips over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs four times. He smoothes his palms over the red flesh.  

“Love your legs so much,” Louis muses, voice deep. WIthout warning, Louis pulls down the panties, knuckles brushing over Harry’s cock as he tucks the material under his balls. “Tell me if its too much.” Harry nods, goes rigid with anticipation, and then Louis slaps his thighs again, this time his whole hand, and Harry groans, fingers tightening over his nipple almost painfully. His thighs close involuntarily again on the next slap, but Louis pries them open with a small frown.

“Be a good boy, Harry,” Louis says, rubbing lightly over the younger boy’s warm thighs. “Don't make me get the crop.” Harry nearly melts at that, but nods his head against the pillow. Louis waits a bit before continuing, running the pads of his fingers over Harry;s red flesh. Then, with a sharp grin, he angles his palms on Harry’s inner thighs, right near his pelvic bone, just shy of his balls, and slaps, hard, five times in a row. Harry groans, cock jumping, precome smearing into the garter. Before Louis can start up again, Harry requests, “Again,” in a shaky voice. Louis smiles, dances his fingertips over Harry’s thighs some more.

“Yeah?” he teases, smirking when Harry moves his torso slightly, then freezes.

“Please, Lou, again,” and with a quick grin, Louis slaps over Harry’s thighs repeatedly, jumping from inner to tops, to right over the stockings. He keeps his hits hard, quick, and he loses count quickly, mind focused on how Harry’s muscles jump with the effort to stay still, how his chest is as flushed as his thighs, how he’s heaving with fast breaths, nipples puffy and raw, lips parted and sick. Louis watches his precome build up until there’s a steady stream leaking from his red tip, oozing down the lace of the garter and over the leaves of his laurels. Its fucking hot, and Louis’ head spins as he stops, hands stinging. Harry lets out a whimper, but keeps quiet, eyes watching Louis. The older boy admires his work; Harry’s thighs, the parts aren't covered in garter or stocking, are an ungodly shade of red, and all Harry can babble is strands of “please”. Louis smiles, caresses the abused skin.

“Please what, baby?” Harry whimpers again, eyes wide. “Gotta use words, love.” He reaches a hand to grab Louis’ thigh, digs his fingers into the bare flesh.

“Please, gonna come,” he gasps, tongue darting out to lick over his lips. Louis can't stop smiling.

“Think you can come untouched baby?” Harry cants his hips upward, fingers working over his nipple harshly.

“Need something,” he rasps. “Need you - need anything - please, Louis,” and,

“Since you asked so kindly,” Louis sinks to the mattress, taking Harry’s leaking cock in one go, hollowing out his cheeks and stroking his thumbs along the sensitive and still burning skin of Harry’s thighs. When he reaches the panties, he pushes his fingers underneath the bunched material, pressing into Harry’s hipbones roughly as he brings the younger boy to his climax. Harry’s hips snap up, making Louis lose his breath and almost choke, before Harry’s locking his fingers into Louis’ hair and holding him down, right where he is, nose pushed against Harry’s stomach, throat muscles fluttering. He gives a sharp warning of, “Fuck, I’m gonna - gonna come,” one second before actually following through with it. Louis keeps his mouth shut tight, and pulls back against Harry’s hand, still sucking softly at the head, before Harry whimpers, scrunches his eyebrows up in discomfort. He pushes at Louis’ shoulder, and before the older boy can swallow, Harry’s leaning forward, bending to fit his mouth to Louis’, licking his come right out of Louis’ mouth. It’s the first time they’ve kissed since this started, and Harry’s hungry for it, only pauses to swallow, lick his lips, then devour Louis, mouth rough, tongue eager, breathing harsh. Louis gets to his knees, to make it easier on both of them, takes Harry’s bottom lip between his own, and bites gently. Harry whines something, making Louis pull away and look at him before he says it again, louder.

“Fuck me, please, just - _fuck_ _me_.” Louis laughs, looks down at Harry’s cock that is still half hard. He pulls the panties up, ignoring Harry’s whimper.  

“I must say,” Louis murmurs against his slick lips, “I admire your nearly non-existent reboot time.” Harry dimples.

“Maybe I can make you come and admire your very existent reboot time.” Louis holds back a laugh because _Harry,_ _you’re such an idiot_.

“You only want me for my dick, I swear,” he says instead, moving to straddle Harry’s chest. Harry nods eagerly, running his hands up Louis’ thighs. Louis nearly comes right there, because Harry’s looking at him with a hungry determination, eyes dark, lips red, and Louis is so in love it aches his bones. Harry waits patiently while Louis grabs the base of his cock and rubs the crown along Harry’s lips, spreading the precome over the heated flesh. “Open up, love,” Louis says, leaning forward to grasp the headboard for support. Harry slips his hands around Louis’ waist and opens his mouth up obediently, watching Louis with a steady gaze as the older boy slowly feeds his cock into his mouth.

Harry takes it greedily, mouth already closed around Louis’ length before he’s halfway in. Louis lets out a shaky breath as Harry hums, squeezing his waist, urging him to move. Louis snaps his hips forward, and Harry moans, pulls his head back and sucks Louis down, closing his eyes and letting out a harsh breath through his nose. Louis thrusts in again, and he can't help but thread his fingers through Harry’s hair and pull, stretching the younger boy’s neck back. He fucks into Harry’s throat roughly, hears Harry gag violently, and somehow it turns him on even more. When Louis pulls out, letting Harry catch his breath, Harry swallows thickly, opens his watery eyes, and smiles.

“Such a good boy, Harry,” Louis coos, petting his hand through said boy’s thick curls, thumbing his jutting jaw. “Always a good boy for me.” Harry hums around his dick and presses his thumbs into Louis’ hipbones. Louis pulls out, watches as Harry chases the tip of his cock with his tongue, leaving a trail of saliva, and looking like something straight from a porno. He looks desperate for it, his mouth open wide, and Louis holds his jaw, fucks straight into his throat a couple of times, feels the tightening of muscle, hears the surprised gag. He pulls out again, wipes at the spit lining Harry’s red lips, the younger boy groaning in response, hands palming at Louis’ ass.

“Come on my face.” The last syllable cracks with how fucked Harry’s voice is, and that’s what does it for Louis. Several quick tugs of his cock later he’s coming, the first splash landing on Harry’s cheek, the second across the slope of his nose, the third into his awaiting mouth, and the fourth on his chin. Louis hisses when Harry surges forward, running his tongue along Louis’ shaft, and it _hurts_ , like his dick can't even think of more pressure. Louis whimpers and pulls Harry away by his hair, grinning when Harry gasps brokenly, closes his eyes.

“So pretty.” Harry hums with the praise, licks over his lips. Louis wipes away the drying come with his index and middle finger, and taps Harry’s lips. “Good boy,” he murmurs as Harry licks the digits clean, sucks them into his mouth. Louis removes them after a little while and shimmy’s down Harry’s body. Louis really takes the time to admire Harry; the way his cock strains against the lace of the panties, the muscles of his thighs, how he was all man, and yet, not. Louis rubs his palm over Harry and takes it lower, pushing the scratchy lace into Harry’s hole.

“Do it fast, yeah?” Harry asks sheepishly. Louis looks up to find Harry propped on his elbows watching Louis carefully. “Like, quickly, I wanna feel it.” Louis smiles, kisses the inside of Harry’s thigh.

“Anything you want, princess.” Harry nods and Louis pulls aside the panties, presses his still wet finger against Harry. The younger boy’s breath catches, and Louis can believe this is all his. Harry bears down, but after an unhappy tut from Louis he just groans.

“Just fucking do it.” Its rushed, exhaled quickly, and Louis nips at Harry’s thigh, gives it a mild slap.

“Be patient.” And just like he asked, Louis gives it to him, pushing his finger all the way in. Harry rolls his head against his shoulders, swallows.

“Yeah, _more_.” Louis slaps his thigh again, watches the way he shivers with it. “Fuck, hurry, _please_.” Louis rolls his eyes, but grabs the bottle of lube and slicks up his fingers nicely, before adding not one, not two, but three, mesmerized by the way Harry just swallowed them, hips rolling and chest heaving. “Yes, yes, yes, Lou.” Louis presses up and Harry collapses, body writhing as Louis starts to scissor his fingers, stretching Harry.

“Now, Louis, please.” Louis pushes his fingers away from each other, stretching Harry open quickly and roughly. Then - an idea.

“Get on your knees.” Harry looks down at Louis, confused for a second, before Louis sits up and motions for him to do so. He gets to his knees and fiddles with the panties, waiting for further instruction. Louis shuffles to sit against the pillows and Harry turns around. “Finger yourself.” Harry sighs irritatedly, but grabs the bottle of lube from underneath Louis’ outstretched leg and covers his fingers. He fiddles with the panties some more, tugging at his hard cock, the tip oozing through the holes in the lace. Louis takes it all in and nods, breath still uneven. Harry smiles and sits up, thighs thick, reaches a hand behind himself to pull aside the panties. Louis can't see very much, but knows the second Harry’s started by the long sigh pulled out of him, the fluttering of eyelashes, the quickening of breath.

Louis could watch this for hours - has watched this for hours - Harry’s lean body writhing against his own fingers, eyelashes beating like butterfly’s wings against his flushed cheeks, mouth parted in needy gasps. It feels a bit uncomfortable, but when Louis looks down, he’s hard again, just from watching Harry squirm to find the right place.

Unable to keep his hands to himself, Louis sits up, runs his hands across Harry’s thighs, notices the way the stockings stretch with the strain of his positioning. Harry’s cock twitches against the snug waistband of the panties, little drops of precome smearing into his milky skin. Louis smiles, raising his hands to thumb at Harry’s hipbones. Harry opens his eyes, stares at Louis intensely, and they stay like that, eyes locked, never straying, while Harry gasps quietly, inked bicep straining as he continues to open himself up.

Louis strokes across Harry’s rippling stomach, over his butterfly, up his pecs, and to his collarbones, fingertips grazing the birds that sit beneath them. He doesn't say anything, just keeps the corner of his lip tucked neatly between his teeth, intrigued by Harry’s absolute beauty, starting from his dark, lust blown eyes, and ending at his legs, long, lean, _gorgeous_.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Louis finally whispers, wrapping a hand around the back of Harry’s neck. Harry smiles.

“Kiss me,” he whispers back, eyes trained on Louis’ lips. The older boy complies happily, tilts his head and licks into Harry’s mouth right away. Harry moans when Louis bites his lip, hard, stills his hand.

“Fuck me now,” he says, voice low, deep, molasses slow coming from his cherry red lips. Louis nods his head quickly, waits for the younger boy to move his hand from behind himself before putting a hand in the center of his chest and pushing the younger boy down, back against the bed. Harry spreads his legs wide, lets Louis get a good look at him before grabbing Louis’ hip in one hand and the bottle of lube in the other. He opens it with a loud snick, and slides his hand from Louis’ waist to his cock in order to apply the gooey substance. He flicks his wrist along Louis’ cock a few times before pulling away, wiping his hand on the sheets.

“Thank you,” Harry says, making Louis stop halfway, hovering over him. “For the present.” His eyes are wide, bright, and Louis can't find the words to summarize how he’s feeling: so full of love for his beautiful boy, always ready to give whatever, whenever. Butterflies flutter low in his stomach, and its no different than when they were 17 and 19, doing this for the first time, or when they were 20 and 22, when everything was shit, but at least they had each other. If he wasn't so turned on (and about ten seconds from fucking Harry’s brains out) he’d probably cry, big fat tears of love and gratefulness.   

He chooses instead to finish leaning over Harry’s body, hands framing his face, Harry’s hands wrapped around his neck. Louis leans down for a soft kiss, languidly tangled tongues and gentle lips.

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers against Harry’s mouth. Harry nods his head softly, bumping his nose against Louis’.

“Love you more than anything,” he says quietly, like its a secret. Louis kisses him again until he’s struggling for breath, and then Harry’s smiling, hands gliding over Louis’ shoulders. “But can you fuck me?” He’s quiet again, as if people could hear him. It makes this much more intimate, and in a way, special, just for them.

Louis nods quickly, clearing his head and reaching a hand down to guide himself into Harry; perfect, tight, wet Harry. The younger boy stutters out a sharp breath, not making a single noise until Louis’ completely inside him, hips snug against his inner thighs.

“Move, move, _move_ ,” he requests quickly, hands sliding off Louis to the sheets. “Please, Louis,” he says, rolling his hips. “Please.” Louis draws back his hips then thrusts in softly, trying to get Harry comfortable. He isn’t having it, however, and groans in frustration. “Fuck me Louis,” he says roughly, hand coming up to palm himself. “Fuck me in my fucking panties, Lou.”

All of Louis’ resolve crumbles at the filthy words, and he fucks into Harry fast, hard, hips relentless. Harry throws his head back, eyes shut, and moans, letting out a few curses. But he isn't really there yet; Harry’s not chanting Louis’ name (as per usual); so Louis angles his thrusts until Harry whimpers, chokes on a groan.

“Right there, please again,” he whispers, voice cracking on the last word. Instead of doing it though, Louis sits up, pushes Harry’s knees to his chest, bending the younger boy in half. Harry gets out a “fuck” before pushing down the panties and wrapping a hand around himself. Louis presses back inside him fast, then pushes on the backs of Harry’s thighs, holding himself up while he fucks Harry into the mattress, hitting his prostate dead on. Harry’s loud, moans echoing through the room hotly, and Louis feels him tightening in fits and starts. Finally he says it, “close, so close,” and Louis starts to babble, brain to mouth filter switched off.

“God, you look so pretty taking all of my cock.” He pauses to catch his breath, watch Harry work his leaking cock over slowly compared to Louis’ thrusts. He starts back up again, Harry mewling in the back of his throat, ruby red lips parted slightly. “Want you to come all over these pretty panties.” Louis pauses to catch his breath. “Can you be a good boy and do that for me?” Harry nods his head furiously against the bed.

“Wanna be good,” he whispers, eyes shutting again, body wracked with the force of Louis’ thrusts. Louis pushes his legs open and pulls the panties back over his cock. He leans over his body again, and really gives it to him, hard, fast, just like he wanted, and Harry goes tense, the only sign of his ogasm before there’s come pulsing from his cock, into the lacy panties, and Louis barrels toward the edge more quickly than he expected. Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist, the silky material of his stockings soft on Louis’ skin, and then Louis stops, his body screaming with the need to come. Harry’s still blissed out, so Louis just silently maneuvers him, to where his legs are crossed and resting on Louis’ shoulder. Harry smiles, looking up at Louis dopily.

“Fuck my thighs,” he says raspily, cheeks pink, eyes glassy. That makes Louis get a move on, grabbing the lube and slicking up the insides of Harry’s beautiful thighs quickly. Louis nudges the heated flesh with the tip of his cock, testing it, before he slides all the way through. Its tight, wet, plush, and warm, just not to the same degree as Harry’s ass was. Harry moans softly, closing his eyes and just looking so pretty while taking it. Louis grabs Harry’s hip, digs his nails into the panties, and its so fucking hot, _Harry’s_ so fucking hot, so intense, that Louis can't even take it.

“Fuck,” he groans, and Harry squeezes his thighs tighter, runs his hands along Louis' chest, down his stomach, fingers just delicately pressing. “Such a good boy Harry,” Louis gets out, the words on a breathy sigh. Harry smiles sleepily, darts his tongue over his lips.

“Always,” he murmurs, curling his hands around Louis’ bulging biceps. “Your good boy.” And the way Harry’s voice comes across is beautiful - so wrecked, so croaked, so breathless - that it steals the air from Louis’ lungs, makes him want to pass out, purely out of love, admiration, at the way Harry gives himself so fully and completely.

Louis leans down and captures Harry in a searing kiss, so close to the edge. Harry pulls away with a slick sound and a small smile.

“Love you so much,” he whispers, holding the back of Louis’ neck. Louis knocks their foreheads together and only lets out a small whimper when he finally comes, mind blissfully blank. Once he’s finally back, high slowly fading, Louis moves off Harry, smiles at the ceiling.

He feels the bed wobble with Harry’s weight, but he never leaves, and when Louis looks over, he’s taking a picture, phone aimed at his abdomen.

“What are you...?”

“Taking a picture, that way, I’ll never forget tonight,” Louis laughs, and Harry turns his head to smile blindingly at him. “Oh, and so I can send it to Liam.” Louis giggles, watches as Harry cleans himself up with a tissue. He chucks it to the floor, then cuddles into Louis’ side, tangling a stocking clad leg with Louis’ and smiling.

“Happy birthday,” he murmurs into sweaty skin, and Louis just smiles, thinks of how lucky he is.

“Happy Christmas Harry.”

And yeah, this was the best birthday Louis’ ever had, even if he _is_ 30\.    

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments always appreciated! hope you enjoyed.
> 
> (im a big weenie, please dont hate)


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